An Inside Look At Healthcare Today

I was in OR 6. My friend, the Physician Assistant Heather, had some news to share!

Last we had talked, she had concern about her autoimmune disease. She had terrible pre-eclampsia and had to be delivered emergently at thirty weeks' gestation. He little one is now eight months old, but developmentally six months old. She was concerned about her ability to conceive and carry a child to term for the next one. We spoke candidly. I shared how I have an antiphospholipid antibody, anticardiolipin antibody, and how reproduction was a serious health concern for me too. We talked about GMO's, high fructose corn syrup, and other ways to modify the diet to increase health. I shared about Reiki, and she was open and excited to learn more. Well, she got rid of dairy in her diet, and suddenly felt much better! It turns out she conceived too! She is now eight weeks along!

As we spoke, the surgeon, Dr. Ray, overheard the conversation. He shared that he had a son die twenty-four hours after birth. This was back in 'the old country' and the boy died of 'hyaline membrane disease'. There was no treatment for it. 'They didn't have anything'. (here, back then, the child would have been given surfactant to help the lungs mature, and the boy would have lived.)

Dr. Ray left his homeland, came here, and trained to be a doctor all over again. Just so he and his wife would never go through that again. He is one of the hardest workers I know. I've known him since 1996.  He amputated my grandmother's leg before I ever met him--that was in 1995. So there is this closeness. Not only had I never known about his loss, his sharing helped me understand why he is so overwhelmingly HAPPY over his new granddaughter. He got one 'back' through his five other kids that made it.

There is also something amazing about him, too. His native language is Aramaic. So all these years I have worked with a surgeon who has the accent Mary, Jesus, and Joseph would have had if they learned English! He says 'Mary' in Aramaic is 'Abe Miriam', and Joseph is 'Joseb'. Water is 'Mee-yaa'. That was so cool to me, because all of my life I wondered what they would have sounded like if I had spoken with them back then and there.

The scrub tech next shared that he had lost a daughter at fourteen months. There had been multiple pneumonias, and there was only so much they could do at the Children's Hospital. Her care had been excellent.

I stared at him, looking him in the eye, in complete shock. This is the one who never seemed happy, who is smart as a surgeon but didn't like books and joined the navy and found his way into the O.R. career that way. I've known him for five years, and although I had intuition about the heartache, I never had known the cause!

That night, I worked late, and got a small 'ditch-the-lettuce' salad from the cafeteria. Try it! You take everything you enjoy--in my case beets, cucumber, and garbanzo beans--add a little dressing and enjoy. The cashier is the one who had just been on postpartum when I first started working there as an OB anesthesiologist. She had some difficulty in the labor, but everything seemed okay. Not more than three weeks later, her child died of sudden infant death syndrome. I've always admired her for coming to work, and having a smile for everyone after a painful loss like that.

She's not the only one in food service with heartache from loss of a child. The chef has a son who is of age, and for reasons that are not clear to the family, the son has left the home and cut off almost all contact with the family. There are mental health and possible drug use factors in the situation. But his family is struggling with being in a constant state of 'hoping for the best but preparing for the worst'. His son left the house with a backpack of books so he won't be bored. And about six weeks ago, he called and asked the father to 'get his things'. He was living under a bridge. There were the books, quinoa, organic foods, green tea, and vitamin supplements...even a folding chair. His father was surprised to see that his son was clearly able to cook and take care of himself...and thanked God that his boy was not hungry on the streets.

With the O.R., and also after the cafeteria, I was deeply touched. Compassion filled my heart for these people who go to work and help others every single day, and bear the burden of their own loss, keeping it hidden from even their long-time colleagues.

What better way to help others than to have faced loss and struggle in their personal life?

So I gave Reiki. I gave Reiki to their Guardian Angels for the Highest Good. For a safe pregnancy and healthy child. For healing from loss and a joyful reunion in Heaven with the infants lost. For the angelic watch and protection over the prodigal son.

I worked nineteen hours yesterday in service to others with my anesthesia skills. It was an unusual day.

I worked on people from their thirties to their nineties. I worked on people who had insurance, and ones that could not pay (didn't even have Obamacare). Three had life-saving surgery. One had traumatically amputated something in a work accident. One more was seeking relief from a lifetime of pain that was only going to get worse with time.

They are my ohana.

I worked with our teams--two of them switched out--having worked twelve hour shifts.

One patient could have died on the table. They were of very high risk.

Another had an unexpected EKG finding that was also ominous, but due to the nature of the condition, had to go to surgery to save their life.

Everyone did well.

I slept on a gurney in the recovery room.

It was uncomfortable, but what else could I do? I could have been called back in if another emergency arrived to the hospital and needed an operation.

See that picture at the top?

That was my dream. And that dream is shared by just about everyone that works in a hospital. The education requirements, and licensing examinations, and competition to even get in to the training are  challenges we gladly undertake. We are lucky to be able to live our dream with our work, every day.

Health care is rapidly changing. There are politics, big business, and public concerns in the media every day. All of these news articles have a common element of distrust, fear, and the energy of separation. It puts doctors and nurses and other workers into a 'them' category, while the 'us'--the readers, subject them to scrutiny and make light of any 'defense' from those being 'discussed'.  Money is a polarizing issue--the public things because of the expense of insurance and health care, the hospitals and workers are being made rich in the system. That is how it looks from the outside, looking in. From the inside, looking out, there is a different picture, of increasing costs of doing business, and rapidly shrinking compensation from third-party payors. The expense for installment and updates to an electronic charting system in a doctors office, and the risk of even MORE expensive HIPAA violation fines, is daunting. The patients are getting more risky to take care of, as well. There are epidemics in just about everything--from 'super bugs' to obesity--with sometimes the health-care worker being put at risk. I saw one needle stick injury and one scalpel injury to surgeons in two days. I hardly ever see needle stick injuries, but they happen, and there is risk to the healer of catching a blood-borne infection in this way. (I have had three, personally, two were in my training years.) One of the injuries I witnessed was the newly-discovered and much welcomed pregnancy woman I mentioned in the first paragraph. Those anti-viral medications to take 'just in case' to decrease risk might affect the developing baby...

So this article, is on the 'essence' of the healer in today's health care system, and the focus is on the healer's heart.

You should know about this.

That's why I am writing 'from the inside' so you can have balanced information to make your own judgement about 'what is right' and 'what is wrong' with health care today.

Until Reiki and other modes of energy healing become more widespread within the system, I will continue teaching and healing, one patient at a time, on colleague at a time, and one blog post at a time, to make things better for all of us, together, as one, here on earth. We have more in common that might be thought.

Love Is The Solution For Everything...

Aloha and Mahalos,
Namaste,

Reiki Doc

P.S. This is in rebuttal to this article: http://www.shiftfrequency.com/cameron-salisbury-dirty-hospitals-deadly-consequences/
Can you find the Goddess Energy in it? Look for the nurturing, warmth, love and compassion. When you see the energy of nurturing, warmth, love and compassion in anything you read or hear, you will know it is from Source. Further, it will resonate with your heart center as Truth. Anything else? Well, that's up to you  to interpret. Make sure it passes the 'heart-focused energy' discernment test before you accept it as truth. There are many 'partial truths' out there. Be smart about what you read before you accept it.

Stress Reduction In Medical Students

The stress begins just trying to get accepted INTO med school. The GPA. The letters of recommendation. The volunteer work. The MCATs. The applications. The interviews (you have to pay for all travel and accommodations).

Then there is the move. And the first day of medical school! At last, it is the dream come true! I remember eating lunch on the lawn with a circle of my classmates, in a formal 'small group getting to know each other' setting. We bought our own white coats--now these are given in a small 'ceremony' to the entering students. (Remember, the shorter the coat, the newer the student! The longer the coat, then they are 'attendings'.) But the Dean of the school gave us a chilling lecture--she said, 'This is the first day in your career you won't be behind!'

She was right. The amount of facts mastered in the first two years was mind-boggling. I literally studied until I couldn't learn any more and went to sleep. There were tests and practicals and 'introduction to being in the hospital' classes. That same dean told us to allow about three hours a day for our needs--one hobby, exercise, meals, housekeeping. Everything else was spent learning medicine.

I took a special course that took extra time: Medical Spanish. I decided to not have to wait for the interpreter the rest of my career. But this took my lunch hours on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and Thursday afternoons I went to a clinic that was Latino to practice--for two years straight!

A group of us was interested in Alternative Medicine. We had a class and I learned during this elective about Ayurveda, acupuncture, massage, herbal medicine…many things.

A classmate was a karate black belt, and he offered classes for us. It was 'Yo Shu Kai' karate. I earned my yellow belt. Others were ballroom dancers, and we would practice in breaks between classes and sometimes go downtown together to try out our 'stuff'.

My favorite was wednesday nights. I took Jazz dance (Hip Hop) at the rec center. I couldn't afford ballet at the studio my friend went to . But together we went to Salsa dancing until ten at night. It was the best fun I had all year.

I also had a year pass to the local zoo, and went to mass every week.

Second year, I actually taught massage to the first years, as part of a new course in Stress Reduction.

Some schools now have more formal courses, and a few include Reiki.

Here is an article on the latest news about stress reduction techniques in medical student education: http://www.examiner.com/article/meditation-is-helping-medical-students

What is NOT written in this, and is important to note, is that work hours ARE limited for both medical students in the hospital rotations (they are generally excused at three in the afternoon 'to go read') and residents (eighty hour work week). There are NO work hour limits for physicians.

After sixteen hours awake, studies have shown that impairment is equivalent to one alcoholic drink.

Some hospitals take this seriously, just as they would for pilots, and truckers. They have a 'breaker' person come in to give a four-hour nap to the on-call anesthesiologist in the O.R. and immediately after, the O.B. anesthesiologist. (I do not know about the other specialties).

Others, like my own, assign twenty-four hour shifts and do not guarantee more than 'the short room' for the following post-call day.

This is an important part of health care no one likes to discuss.

I think you should know.


Aloha and Mahalos,
Namaste,

Reiki Doc


P.S. eating RAW vegan gives me the energy I need to 'keep up' with all-night shifts. It makes a tremendous difference in my stamina. Also, 'light lunches' keep me from getting sleepy in the O.R. which is often very dark after lunch.

Reiki and the E.R.

An elderly loved one was admitted to the hospital recently.
As the doctor in the family, I was requested to come to the E.R. at once.
Sometimes, the 'Just for Today, I will do my work honestly' applies even on your day off.

I had to be a noodge. Do you know what a noodge is? A noodge is the person who stands up for the Truth, and annoys the heck out of people to get proper care for their loved one.

This family member had an eight-week history of malaise: not feeling well, not eating, needing help to walk. This was a change in the baseline activity level of a basically active senior.

The catch is that this loved one had a complex medical history, including diabetes brought on by steroid use in anti-rejection therapy for a solid-organ transplant.

Furthermore, this loved one, like my three other elderly loved ones who had passed on before, bought the motto of this 'big box healthcare organization' hook, line, and sinker. Somehow the five-dollar copay translates through as 'good care' to people who have lived through the Great Depression.

Blood sugar was over five hundred. The admitting internist wanted to send this loved one to the floor.

While I was in the E.R. for over six hours, and the hospital itself for eight, this is what I saw for treatment:

Glucose = off the charts. No diabetic ketoacidosis--yet.

Insulin ten units i.v.

Recheck in one hour. Glucose = four hundred and something.

No action. No insulin. Nada.

I ask about the plan of treatment with the E.R. nurse.

Delay while she calls the internist.

Ten units insulin i.v. PLUS eight units insulin subcutaneous.

No recheck as expected in an hour.

I ask again after two hours.

Recheck blood sugar. It is three hundred ninety.

The internist calls, and asks for me. This doctor says, 'I did test A and test B and test C and test D and test E and test F and...the results are A and B and C and D and E and F....'

I listen, acutely aware that this is a new doc, who is not yet able to synthesize a working diagnosis. This  physician is 'ruling out' everything on the differential (list of possible) diagnoses, but does not 'get it' that something seriously metabolic is going on. 

Here is the work up that should have been happening;
ABG (arterial blood gas)
Urine and serum osmolarity, and sodium (this was critically low)
Insulin drip
echocardiogram
in addition to the EKG, UA, lytes, CBC, renal ultrasound, chest x-ray and CT scan ordered.
(isn't it ironic how at the airport they x-ray your total body on the way in the gates but not at the E.R.?)

Guess what?
I said to the nurse, 'I know in my heart that is it was this intern's parent in this E.R. instead of mine, this intern would have been ten times more mean than I am being now!'
And the nurse looked at me, and let down her guard immediately, for I had spoken a Truth.

The internist agreed to ICU admission 'to make me feel better'.
Then I got told by same internist, 'The ICU physician refuses the admit because your loved one does not meet ICU criteria'

Guess what? The telemetry nurse refused the admission. The sugar was not controlled and too high.

Guess what? My parent experienced chest pain (I can't breathe I have pressure, and anginal equivalent) twice in front of me. You don't give one and a half liters of normal saline wide open to anyone over seventy. At the first time, we stopped the fluids, and the symptoms resolved. When the fluids were restarted later, on a pump, we mentioned in the hall that the patient was having chest pain. (I had programmed the monitor to track continuous EKG tracing, one lead, in the E.R. as it was only showing pulse ox and blood pressure before. I watched the ST segments steep depression, and knew the diastolic blood pressure was only thirty. I saw the ischemia happen before my eyes, just like in the O.R. Only there was no paper in the printer on on monitor to print out automatically with the alarms what had been going on).

Then everyone ran in the room.

The nurse in white scrubs came in. The one that knew what was what. Probably the house supervisor.
He asked why the sugar was so high and uncontrolled. And why there were all these different places to go--telemetry, ICU, DOU (step down).

I said it was because I 'squeaked'.

He looked at me, eye to eye, back to the rest of the E.R., and said, under his breath in the gayest 'you go girl' voice ever--You Did Right, looking around the room to make sure none of the Big Box Employees would rat on him. Over his shoulder, was the E.R. nurse, nodding their head, in support..
Again, in his sotto voce, 'Your parent needs DOU level of care. Needs an insulin drip. You did the right thing by speaking up.'

The internist came in the room, as I was holding my parent's hand while the nurse drew blood for troponins, a marker of cardiac injury. Transplant patients, like breast cancer patients, only have one arm for blood pressure cuffs, i.v.'s and blood draws. The veins are terrible.

I felt the internist bump into my aura. It was about six feet radius around me. The internist stopped.
The internist saw and understood everything, without words. I saw an extremely thin doc, with very well-developed veins, a runner, possible ultra-athlete, a top-of-the-class book-smart doc, still wearing a retainer, who chose Big Box so They Could Have A Life. In essence, they chose a 9-5 career in medicine.

I asked, 'what do you want to do about fluids? The i.v. maintenance is on hold.'
The internist touched the tubing and the beeping pump, and said, 'it is going'.
I said, 'no, the tubing is not connected to the patient, and the pump is on pause.' holding the end of the tubing and pointing to the pump, 'we need a decision to either restart it or hold the fluids'.

The internist stammered, walked out of the room. The pump kept beeping every two minutes. My sister and I took turns hitting the silence button, until after about ten minutes, I just turned the pump off.

What is the moral of the story:
The dark side of medicine today is that there is a difference in the standard of care between your doctor's mom and your own.

Let me repeat: there is a work ethic for 'care of the patient' that suddenly 'changes' when it is not just 'the patient' and it is 'the family member of the health care worker'.

Big Box Healthcare is a Business. End of story. Efficiency at patient care leads to more profit for shareholders.

When, every patient is considered someone's 'Auntie' or 'Uncle', a real breakthrough in Healthcare is going to happen. This is MUCH needed in medicine today. Even the ugliest, stinkiest street person, is still 'Auntie' or 'Uncle', just as much as the blood related 'Auntie' and 'Uncle' to the nurse, physician, physician assistance, nurse anesthetist, critical care nurse, E.R. nurse, orderly, nursing assistant, x-ray tech, echo tech, phlebotomist, janitor, dietary worker...and Reiki is going to be a huge part of this process.

Do you agree?


Namaste,

Reiki Doc